January 10, 2012
Ice Planes
Boarding my LAN airlines flight in Punta Arenas, Chile two days ago, I was hit with one stark realization: I wasn't in Antarctica anymore. Now, it wasn't the warm air, flowers, warm temperatures, shower, bed, clean clothes, cold beer, table or knife and fork that caused this sensation; rather it was the plane itself - the comfortable seats, carpeted isle, in flight entertainment and uniformed flight attendants.
It's not that the pilots in Antarctica don't wear uniforms - they do, well kind of. Carhartts. Warm hats and insulated work gloves. Pack boots.
Antarctica is a huge place - 4.5 million square miles to be exact - that's twice the size of Australia (if that means anything to you). It's covered in ice that AVERAGES a thickness of one mile. To say that the coldest, windiest and driest continent on Earth poses a few logistic problems is serious understatement.
Enter the ice pilots of Antarctica and three amazing aircraft. The first is the Ilyushin IL-76 employed with one simple task: get me, the rest of the crew and a wide variety of adventurers, tourists, fuel and equipment to the 'ice'. Designed in Russia to ferry heavy loads to remote locations with primitive runways, it's part flying tank, part 18-wheeler, and surprisingly, part elegant glider.
Big levers, toggles and wires are ubiquitous in the construction and Ilyushins possess a certain 1950's era quality. Near the tail, there is a bright red ax bolted to an interior wall labeled succinctly 'emergency ax'. Ilyushins embrace a simple functional philosophy reminiscent of the Soviet space program who, in comparison to the Americans who spent millions of dollars on developing a pen that could write in zero gravity, chose a pencil instead.
The other aircraft stationed at the Adventure Network International seasonal base camp Union Glacier are the Basler and Twin Otter. For longer flights, and bigger loads, the 'Basler' (a DC-3 refurbished with turboprop engines, longer fuselage and a few other odds and ends) is used. It's THE plane that revolutionized air transportation in the 1930's and 40's.
While the Twin Otters routinely make the same flights as the Basler, they usually require a refueling stop en route to cover the same distance. Where the The DHC-6 Twin Otters excel is in their ability to take off and land in a relatively short distance.
Four years ago, I was skiing to the South Pole and required an emergency pick up for one of my team members. The weather was terrible - blowing snow and low visibility. We spent the entire morning outside leveling snowdrifts (sastrugi) and marking a 500 meter runway so the plane could land safely. By the time the flight was in the air, we were exhausted and collapsed into our tent. Peaking outside an hour later, we had the plane on visual and watched it briefly circle the camp, pass over our well marked runway, land and taxi only 10 meters from our tents!
This year, I had an in flight seat as one of the pilots meticulously carved out a safe runway by flying a series of partial landings into the soft snow near Gould Bay. By the time of our final decent we landed and taxied with out incident on a patch of sea ice that could have easily mangled then swallowed a lesser plane (and pilot).
Back on my comfortable LAN flight, I looked out the window and watched the green and blue surrounding Punta Arenas blur then fade into the white of a thick cloud layer. I was glad to be going home. But still, I couldn't help but wonder when I would once again feel the pull of the throttle as skis lift off the snow and watch the ice of Antarctica stretch as far as the eye can see.
Image: The view from my new cabin - I wish!
It's not that the pilots in Antarctica don't wear uniforms - they do, well kind of. Carhartts. Warm hats and insulated work gloves. Pack boots.
Antarctica is a huge place - 4.5 million square miles to be exact - that's twice the size of Australia (if that means anything to you). It's covered in ice that AVERAGES a thickness of one mile. To say that the coldest, windiest and driest continent on Earth poses a few logistic problems is serious understatement.
Enter the ice pilots of Antarctica and three amazing aircraft. The first is the Ilyushin IL-76 employed with one simple task: get me, the rest of the crew and a wide variety of adventurers, tourists, fuel and equipment to the 'ice'. Designed in Russia to ferry heavy loads to remote locations with primitive runways, it's part flying tank, part 18-wheeler, and surprisingly, part elegant glider.
Big levers, toggles and wires are ubiquitous in the construction and Ilyushins possess a certain 1950's era quality. Near the tail, there is a bright red ax bolted to an interior wall labeled succinctly 'emergency ax'. Ilyushins embrace a simple functional philosophy reminiscent of the Soviet space program who, in comparison to the Americans who spent millions of dollars on developing a pen that could write in zero gravity, chose a pencil instead.
The other aircraft stationed at the Adventure Network International seasonal base camp Union Glacier are the Basler and Twin Otter. For longer flights, and bigger loads, the 'Basler' (a DC-3 refurbished with turboprop engines, longer fuselage and a few other odds and ends) is used. It's THE plane that revolutionized air transportation in the 1930's and 40's.
While the Twin Otters routinely make the same flights as the Basler, they usually require a refueling stop en route to cover the same distance. Where the The DHC-6 Twin Otters excel is in their ability to take off and land in a relatively short distance.
Four years ago, I was skiing to the South Pole and required an emergency pick up for one of my team members. The weather was terrible - blowing snow and low visibility. We spent the entire morning outside leveling snowdrifts (sastrugi) and marking a 500 meter runway so the plane could land safely. By the time the flight was in the air, we were exhausted and collapsed into our tent. Peaking outside an hour later, we had the plane on visual and watched it briefly circle the camp, pass over our well marked runway, land and taxi only 10 meters from our tents!
This year, I had an in flight seat as one of the pilots meticulously carved out a safe runway by flying a series of partial landings into the soft snow near Gould Bay. By the time of our final decent we landed and taxied with out incident on a patch of sea ice that could have easily mangled then swallowed a lesser plane (and pilot).
Back on my comfortable LAN flight, I looked out the window and watched the green and blue surrounding Punta Arenas blur then fade into the white of a thick cloud layer. I was glad to be going home. But still, I couldn't help but wonder when I would once again feel the pull of the throttle as skis lift off the snow and watch the ice of Antarctica stretch as far as the eye can see.
Image: The view from my new cabin - I wish!